The Cape

On a dirt road,
In Cape Cod land,
Fish for sale 
at the pier,
Chowder with clams,
As the sun sets,
In Chatham
Where the lighthouse 
Rises in the sky.

Walking Down

walking down
from the mountain’s top;
falling waters
over rocks,
where the moss grows
and birds stop to drink,
in the fading light of day;
let the angels sing,
a song of the forest,
a song of the stream,
a song of the hills,
a song of another day to come.

Time Leaving

time slips away,
like melting snow,
and falling rain,
like a flower in bloom,
a river come summer,
a ship sailed by,
a song in the air,
a love gone,
all too soon.


Time goes quickly,
like a speeding train,
like a falcon in the wind, 
like a river in spring.
the rhythm of things
goes on like a bouncing ball,
a spinning top,
passing clouds.
the rains come and go,
ice in winter,
water in spring,
leaves in the summer.

March 2023


When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon – you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.

Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter
with what gratitude, what joy –
ports seen for the first time;
to stop at Phoenician trading centres,
and to buy good merchandise,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensuous perfumes of every kind,
sensuous perfumes as lavishly as you can;
to visit many Egyptian cities,
to gather stores of knowledge from the learned.

Have Ithaka always in your mind.
Your arrival there is what you are destined for.
But don’t in the least hurry the journey.
Better it last for years,
so that when you reach the island you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to give you wealth.
Ithaka gave you a splendid journey.
Without her you would not have set out.
She hasn’t anything else to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka hasn’t deceived you.
So wise you have become, of such experience,
that already you’ll have understood what these Ithakas mean.

Constantine P. Cavafy

Running Water

In the Spring
running water,
skimming over rocks,
through the trees,
in the spring,
when melting snow, 
leaves no trace,
like it was never there,
but for the rushing water,
the crumbling trails,
under a new sun,
a new time,
in the descending forest.

Racing With The Moon

like a leaf
floating downriver.
we follow the trail of time,
through shadows in the night
to the rising island sun,
to the golden meadows:
we laugh with the tides,
we race with the moon,
we sing with the fading light.


Falling Leaves
summer’s end,
it’s the changing time,
the spinning of the earth,
the movement of planets:
like the river,
time flows on,
carrying the fall leaves,
shaping the crystals of winter,
signaling the time for the snow to fall:
days and nights,
nights and days:
time is a train,
traveling to destinations
near and far,
to places unknown.